


Boys

by alliedtowinter, clinically_nox



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: ABSOLUTELY OBLIVIOUS IDIOTS, Behind the Scenes, Canon Compliant, Collaboration, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Oblivious, Unrequited Love, main character or actual soulmate?, this could have happened tbh, two idiots on a google doc at three am, who will melly choose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alliedtowinter/pseuds/alliedtowinter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/clinically_nox/pseuds/clinically_nox
Summary: Reyn is... strange. He reminds Melia of an overgrown puppy, and she's always been a cat person, but she doesn't mind dogs.Or, in which Melia learns that she doesn't want what she thought she did, but shedoeswant something else.
Relationships: Melia Ancient | Melia Antiqua & Riki, Melia Ancient | Melia Antiqua & Sharla, Melia Ancient | Melia Antiqua/Reyn (Xenoblade Chronicles), Melia Ancient | Melia Antiqua/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles) (One-sided), dunban/sharla if you squint
Comments: 20
Kudos: 19





	Boys

**Author's Note:**

> this was very much a labor of love for both of us!!! the entire writing process was "so do we want to be melia or reyn?" because we love them both so very much. we decided on both, at the same time. maybe we just want to kiss. haha jk...unless? 
> 
> we hope you enjoy!

Reyn smells like a boy. 

Not in a bad way (well, maybe in a bad way), more in the sense that he’s got this warm, down-to-earth, presence that reminds Melia of a crackling fireplace. Her High Entia are all so _sterile,_ for better and for worse, but Reyn feels solid and real. 

...He's strange. He has this energy to him that Melia had never experienced before, the kind of person that just _feels_ safe, as weird as that sounds. She thought at first that it must be a Homs thing, a cultural difference. What else could it be? But.... Melia never got this feeling of wholeness from any of her other Homs friends. Most of her people are made of lean muscle and take the expression “bird-boned” a bit too literally. It is not uncommon for a High Entia to break several bones before their hundredth birthday. 

But when she thinks too long and hard about the differences between the two of them, the time they fell from the top of the gate dividing Satorl Marsh and Makna Forest comes to mind. Whereas she had neatly dove into the marsh water and Riki had floated down like a balloon, he hit the ground at what _had_ to have been terminal velocity, but got back up after only a brief _oof_ that was clearly more self-indulgence than out of any real pain. She would never understand Homs, but him least of all. What could he be thinking as he stared her down, trotting at her side, so unused to the chill of the mountaintop? 

“Reyn.” He’s a good friend. A reliable one. 

“Huh?”

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Oh, uh, sorry!” Reyn sputters. “The weather. It’s real cold, ain’t it?”

“Yes. We _are_ on Valak Mountain, after all.”

“Well, I been thinking. I w-wanted to ask if you wanted to, maybe, er, share a tent for tonight? Just cause it’s so nippy. Can’t stand the cold, not one bit, ha-ha-ha....” he trails off, hating the sound of his own voice as it peters out. What’s he so nervous for?

“I can’t say that I don’t, but I’d like to know what I’m getting into. Riki has mentioned that you snore. Is this true?”

Reyn mutters something under his breath, “...gonna throw that furball off the damn Bionis…” then, when he notices Melia is staring, perks back up and anxiously rubs his hands together to warm them. “Do not! If I did, which I _don’t_ , the guys back home would’ve drawn an’ quartered me by now.” 

“Well, I’ll be sharing with Sharla, then,” she jokes, shouldering her pack as she trots towards Reyn’s surprisingly well-set-up tent. 

He wilts and heads over to his tent as well. He reminds Melia of a large puppy. She’s always been a cat person, but she doesn’t mind dogs. “All right. Let me know if you change your mind.” When she lifts the flap to his tent and scoots inside, he follows her with a vexed expression on his doe-eyed face. “What’re you here for? Ain’t you gonna share with Sharla?”

“Reyn, I was _joking.”_

He brightens immediately. “Yes! Right, just give me a sec, an’ I’ll be with you, then.”

“Be careful with that one,” Sharla jokes from somewhere behind her, “he’s a bit of a starfish.” That’s a risk she’s willing to take. 

She situates herself on the floor, kneeling as she sets down her bedroll and pulls the cloak off her shoulders. It’s a surprising amount of weight removed, even heavier than the usual mantles she wears. At least she’s got long sleeves and tights this time, or she thinks she’d freeze into a popsicle with wings on its head. Off come her boots and gloves as well. 

When Reyn stoops down to enter, he takes one look at her and lets out a surprised cry, promptly turning around as he covers his eyes, occupying the entrance with his back to her “Sorry!” he yelps. 

“You can come in, you know.”

“Ain’t you changing?” 

“There’s no point.”

“All right, then!” he chirps, doffing his own mittens and tossing them haphazardly into the tent, draping his jacket over his own body as an additional layer as he sits up, leaning on his forearms as he looks up at her. “Huh. ‘S weird to see your arms...”

Melia laughs at that, actually, a short little noise, and Reyn looks at her like he isn’t sure whether she’s laughing with him or at him. 

“Whatever. It don’t matter. G’night.” Reyn lays down fully, and their tent is quiet once more. “Sweet dreams, Melia,” he murmurs, voice heavy with exhaustion now that he’s laying down in a relatively safe place and can afford to let it wash over him. The tent is hardly big enough for Reyn, and his feet are nearly poking out of the flap over the entrance. Surely the Homs must make tents that could accommodate their soldiers, though this did not seem to be one of them. Her bedroll is so light it’s like carrying around a dream, which is lovely when traveling with it, and it’s bizarre how comfortable it is in spite of its thinness. When she next returned to Alcamoth, she would have to ask the engineers how they managed to create such a perfect sleeping bag. 

“You too, Reyn.” She turns off the ether lamp tied to the pole making up the ceiling, rolls over so she’s facing the canvas tent wall, and promptly falls asleep. 

* * *

Melia doesn’t know how much time has passed when she wakes up again, but when she does, her face is level with Reyn’s chest. They’re practically sharing her (rather cozy) pile of blankets, Reyn’s arms looped gently around her. When she tries to move, Reyn groans in his sleep and only tugs her closer, rolling over so that she’s laying on top of him. Sharla wasn’t joking, it seems, though perhaps octopus is a more apt description, but she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t cozy. Oh well. In weather as cold as what’s raging outside, she’d take all the warmth she could get. Melia falls back asleep. 

* * *

The next time she’s up, it’s properly morning, and she’s _miserable._ If it were up to her, she’d never be awake before nine, but it’s not. Dunban, Riki, and Sharla are outside talking amongst themselves about rations. From what she can hear, the problem is simple: they don’t have enough. Melia cannot help but feel like it is her and Riki’s faults, unused to harsh traveling conditions and expending far too many resources as a result. The solution is to head back through Valak the way they came, to the Nopon village, and possibly all the way back to Alcamoth. The idea of making the same trek twice does not appeal to Melia in the slightest, but it isn’t her job to direct the marches. She trusts Dunban’s judgement. “Reyn,” she murmurs, rolling off of his arm. He groans, and his fingers twitch. She’s quite light, but even still, an entire person on his arm for who-knows-how-long could not have been comfortable. 

“Bionis, my arm hurts,” he yawns, voice sleep-heavy.

“I know. I slept on it.”

“Well, what was that for? Sleepin’ on my arm? Get your own bloody arm, princess.” He’s obviously still half asleep. 

“I would have slept on my own arms had you not elected to hold me like a teddy bear the whole night through.”

“Ah. Yeah. I forgot I do that!” he says, chipper, finally opening his eyes. “Man, that’s bright. Sorry.” 

“Come on. Let’s get going.” 

Together, they’re able to disassemble the tent with ease, and Melia learns Reyn’s worst trait: he’s a morning person. He is _annoyingly_ chipper at six in the morning, lit by the sun from behind as he whistles a tune Melia doesn’t recognize. Dunban looks about ready to cut his head off as they begin the march back to Alcamoth. 

“Reyn,” Shulk starts, “I love you, mate, you’re my dearest friend, but if you don’t shut up, I’m about ready to push you off the side of the mountain.”

“Agreed,” says Dunban. 

“Aw, come on. If you tell yourself you’re awake and ready to go enough, eventually you’ll believe it!” Reyn’s smile is shit-eating, and he proceeds to whistle even louder, cupping his gloved hands around his mouth to direct the sound towards Shulk. 

Shulk makes a break towards him, and Reyn foists the folded tent he’d been carrying into Melia’s arms and takes off running, cackling like a madman. Dunban frowns and grumbles. Shulk is fast, but he’s also got the constitution of a wet paper bag. Reyn is just plain _faster._ He’s trained for physical exertion, and by the time Shulk is bent double with his hands on his knees, Reyn jogs in a wide circle around him, showboating a bit. “Now don’t that morning jog just get your blood pumping?” he beams and claps Shulk on the shoulder. She thinks, maybe, if she weren’t in love with Shulk, she’d fall in love with him a little. 

Shulk smiles back up at Reyn in spite of himself. “Sleep… with one eye… open tonight,” he wheezes. 

“Sure.” 

It seems their little episode has attracted the attention of some nearby Ansels, and a flock swoops down on them, so Melia pulls out her staff with a sigh. They are swiftly dispatched with little struggle, but the attack wakes them all up, so she supposes it did some good. 

* * *

The change in climate from Valak Mountain to Makna Forest is as jarring as ever, and she ends up changing from winter gear into something far more breathable. The heat is near suffocating, and she quietly melts on the walk back to the Nopon village. Dunban walks beside her, and she keeps pace. Shulk and Reyn are up front, weapons out, even though nothing in Makna Forest fazes Melia any more after the monsters they’d faced on the mountain. 

“Hey, Melia!” Shulk calls, waving at her like they aren’t only about fifteen meters apart. “Reyn and I have a question for you. Which one’s better, Amethyst Melons or Pure Cherries?” 

Melia turns to the two boys, taking a good look at Shulk in particular. When she first woke up after the Telethia attack, it was Shulk who had been there above her, golden hair haloing his face like some sort of angel. But, right behind him… was Reyn. In the shadows, on the sidelines to whatever strange force made Shulk attract the spotlight so easily, but just as much a part of it as Shulk. “...Why is this a conversation topic?”

“Irrelevant,” Shulk brushes her off, “just answer the question.”

“Amethyst Melons.” It’s an easy answer. The cherries are all right, but once, when she was young, she’d had a melon, and she’d been chasing the flavor ever since. 

“See, Shulk, I told you!” Reyn cries, “Well, hey, ain’t that a good thing? You can have all of mine. Been looking for some way to get rid of them ever since that lady in Colony 6 gave ‘em to me.” He digs around in his pack for a few seconds, then pulls out a surprisingly pristine melon. “Next time we stop, I’ll cut it open, and we can share if you want?”

“Sharing? That’s funny, I thought you hated Amethyst Melons,” Shulk remarks with a laugh. “You always used to beg me to take yours.” 

Reyn looks away with a pinkish tint to his face. “Yeah well, I can stand the taste if I’m sharing with a friend,” he replied, sheepish, though she doesn’t know what reason he has to be so. 

“That sounds agreeable, thank you.” And he smiles, and it lights up his face like he’s heard the most wonderful news. She finds herself looking forward to the next stop more than expected.

* * *

Sharla is a wonderful woman, and Melia cannot help but seek her out whenever something is wrong that she’d rather not talk about with the rest of their little group. All of them are her friends, and she likes them, but sometimes such things as subtlety and tact are needed, and her and Sharla are on the same page when it comes to those two things. They’re about halfway through Makna when they break to rest, and Melia shares her tent with the other woman on that night. In Makna, they needn’t huddle for warmth, quite the opposite, in fact. If she were to share with Reyn again, Melia thinks she’d end up with heatstroke from the boy’s clinginess. But in Makna, the insects are large, and they are _vicious,_ and Melia likes waking up without being covered from head to toe with bug bites. One cannot sleep outside in the forest. 

It’s in Sharla’s tent that she is emboldened to speak by the quiet of the night and her own love for Sharla. “Have you ever dealt with unrequited love?” 

“I have. What’s wrong?” 

“It’s about Shulk.”

“What’s the matter? You don’t like him?” 

“No, I do, but…”

“He’s preoccupied.”

“He was very kind to me. I cannot help but feel that he doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

Sharla makes a noise like she doesn’t want to offend Melia with what she says next, and is double checking everything she says before she says it. “I’d like to ask you a very fair question that I hope you won’t get angry at me for. May I?” She takes Melia’s silence as an affirmation. “Well… do you like Shulk, or do you just think you have to?”

“Why wouldn’t I like him? He saved me.” 

“Aht aht aht. There you go.” Sharla, in the most disturbing event she’s ever witnessed in her life, whips out a near-perfect impression of the words she’d said seconds earlier. “Why wouldn’t I like him? He saved me.” Luckily, Sharla returns to her normal speech patterns afterwards. “You remind me of me and Gadolt, if I’m being honest. We only got engaged because it was what everybody told us to do. We were supposed to start a family. Do you mind if I get a bit morbid for a moment?”

“Feel free.”

“In Colony 6, having children was something everyone was expected to do. You know, we needed those kids to sustain ourselves. It’s sort of gross to think about now, if I’m being honest, that pressure they put on these young teenagers to make these important lifelong decisions about who to love. Enough about that, though. Let me get to the point. I think that if there wasn’t that push from outside, Gadolt and I would have dated for a lot longer, or, maybe, we wouldn’t have ever dated at all.” The last bit she says with a small glance towards the outside of the tent, where Dunban and Shulk are talking quietly by the embers of the dying campfire. It is barely noticeable, but Melia has always been the observant type.

“Listen. If you really love Shulk, then go get him, girl! I’ll be behind you every step of the way. But I want you to really think about it. Is a relationship with Shulk something you want because it will make you happy, or because you’ve been told you should want it?” 

Melia doesn’t have an answer. 

* * *

Morning comes quickly. Sharla is already out of the tent by the time Shulk pokes his head in to ask her if she’d rather eat now, or later once they get to Frontier Village, and _if you’d like to eat now, then you’d better get up quick, because Reyn’s just gotten up and he’s a bottomless pit_. She chooses to wait, and they are all on their way to the Nopon village shortly. Reyn has spent the morning occupying Sharla’s attention, and whatever they’re talking about must be fascinating, because whenever she gets close to try and join in, they both get awfully quiet. 

Until they aren’t, and Sharla whispers something into Reyn’s ears, before he veers off the path. Melia can’t see where he’s gone, and she jumps nearly a foot in the air when Reyn comes up behind her, surprisingly quiet. “Melia. Can I call you Melly?” 

“Please don’t.” Riki only gets away with it because he’s a Nopon, and anything with more than two syllables sounds funny coming out of his mouth in that silly accent. 

“Just Melia, then. Thought you might like these.” Reyn shoves an entire branch of some flowering Makna tree into her hands, yelps something about them smelling nice, and promptly dashes off to engross himself in conversation with Sharla once more before Melia can get a word in. She’s still rattled from being snuck up on, and the utter whirlwind of a gift exchange hasn’t helped matters.

They’re wonderful flowers, and Reyn is a wonderful friend. She’s a bit jealous of his easy ability to start conversations with just about anyone they meet. He is so open with what he feels, wearing his heart on his sleeve, hiding nothing. Everything he feels is written clearly on his face, which Melia is grateful for. It keeps her from second-guessing his intentions like she is prone to doing, and offsets his strapping frame nicely. He should be intimidating, but he just isn’t, he _can’t_ be, and Melia finds she quite likes the contrast. 

He was right. The flowers smell pleasant, and Melia finds she wouldn’t mind if he came back to give her more.

* * *

  
  


Melia finds herself pulled into another overly-intimate conversation about her feelings far too soon for her liking, although she soon realizes that Riki is far more blunt than Sharla when it comes to “boy talk”.

“Melly thinks too much about things.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Riki not blind. Melly been sitting with wrinkly face whenever we around little Hom Homs!” 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, Riki.” 

He sighs, exasperation looking out of place on his soft features. “Melly not dumb. Riki not either, that’s why we here. Sad even when Riki comes over for pets! That means something big happening.” 

She stays silent, so he continues. “Melly likes Shulk, but not as much as she thinks. And Shulk likes other girl with hair like sunshine. So now Melly thinks too much, even though Riki thinks she already knows answer.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” From his appearance, Melia would think Riki woefully transparent when it came to keeping secrets. But, funnily enough, Riki was a more secure vault than most other High Entia she’d met in her life. If that Nopon didn’t want information getting out, it wouldn’t, which made this conversation even more suspicious. What was Riki’s angle?

“Dundun and Shulk must think Riki is deaf, because they talk very loud when they think no one important listens! Riki would be insulted if it did not mean Riki hears so many interesting things.” He preens for a moment, obviously delaying what he has to say next. What is it about her that makes people watch their words so cautiously, to the point where even Riki is reluctant to speak frankly? “And, well…. Riki heard conversation about Dundun’s littlesisterpon.”

Oh. Yes. _Her._ Melia knows she should be angry at the thought of what they’d discovered on Prison Island: that Fiora was alive, or at least sort of alive, and every bit of attention from Shulk she’d misconstrued as romantic intent was just him being a kind person. But she isn’t. She can’t be. It isn’t Fiora’s fault that her life was cut short, just like it isn’t Shulk’s that she read too far between the lines and got hurt. “Fiora?” Her smile is tight. “I hear her and Shulk were-- _are,_ I mean, very good friends.”

“Like you and Reyn good friends?” 

Melia goes crimson. “Excuse me?” Riki clearly isn’t interested in having a serious conversation, he’s interested in turning Melia as red as she’s able to get. Privately she wonders if even her feathers have started to turn pink by now. 

“You and Reyn… close pals! Riki thinks he like-likes you. Riki no like Reyn, but that not surprise. He smelly!”

“I know he is.”

“Melly seems to spend an awful lot of time staring longingly at Orluga boy!” 

“I do not _stare longingly._ I glance. On occasion.” She’s digging herself a proper hole now, isn’t she, and it only gets deeper with every word that comes out of her mouth. 

“Yes! Melly and Smelly!” 

“That’s not nice!” she chides, but Riki goes on. 

“Why not? You not Smelly. You Melly.”

“You don’t call your friends Smelly.”

“Oh, Smelly not friend. He enemy.” Riki remarks conspiratorially. Every single action he takes is over the top, same as every other Nopon she’s met, and Melia’s theory is that they’ve got to compensate for being so small by making their emotions larger than life like they’re actors on a stage. 

“Riki!” 

“Melly and Smelly sitting in tree! Riki no know if next part of song is safe to sing, or if it make Melly spike Riki into lake, so he stop now. Melly knows what comes next, though.” 

“I do,” Melia remarks miserably. 

“Melly not a littlepon, she a littlentia, but Riki still want what is best for his littlentia. And Riki know that Melly can do better than Orluga. But if you like Orluga, you like Orluga, and there is not a thing Riki can do!”

“I am not interested in Reyn!” she snaps at last. 

“Then stop acting like it,” he remarks, then waddles off down the tree to his home. Melia doesn’t follow and instead splashes her face with lake water in a lame attempt to cool it down. 

As much as Melia is loath to admit it, Riki is… intelligent. It’s at times like this where she wishes Riki was just a little less perceptive. 

* * *

Their group is trekking down Latael Shore when it happens. It’s a regular occurrence, one that has probably happened many times without her realizing it, but this time, it gives her the answer that Sharla and Riki have been trying to lead her to. 

They had been avoiding the sound-triggered Cruz Paguls that populated the area as best as they could. Not because they were particularly strong, but because it was an annoyance that they didn’t want to deal with if they didn’t have to, and they tend to fight in packs. They almost make it to the warp point for a Hovering Reef, but someone steps too close to where one is buried in the sand and wakes it up. They soon remember the golden rule of fighting: where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and the single Pagul that could have easily been dispatched with nary a stray thought quickly turns into a dozen, all angry and out for blood. Each of them will have to take out at least two.

That’s fine. Melia knows how to fight, and she easily takes out the Paguls she’s responsible for. But she prefers to fight like a meteor: frontloading all of her ether into only a few attacks, stepping back to allow her allies to tear into the enemy after she’s debilitated them sufficiently so she has a chance to recover. She catches her breath after an explosive display and passes her staff from her right hand to her left, ready to aid Riki next. 

“Melia, on your left!” Shulk barks. She’s simultaneously grateful for his future sight and wishes he’d never said a thing at all, because at least then she wouldn’t know she had an issue to deal with. 

Melia doesn’t swear often, but as the biggest Cruz Pagul she’s ever seen makes a _beeline_ right towards her, she has no elementals prepared to defeat even such a weak foe, and there’s no time to summon one, so she thinks she’s a bit entitled to a “damn it!” All she’s got is her staff and quick reflexes, so she digs her heels into the sand, lowers herself to the ground a bit, and prepares to swing. It’s just her and the Pagul. Maybe if she hits it hard enough, she’ll knock it off its path enough for her to get her bearings and summon an elemental to blast it away. 

She swings with all of her might. It only serves to enrage the Pagul, and her eyes widen in shock. Not even a scratch? What kind of monster is this? It rears up onto one pair of its hind legs, ready to strike. Melia braces her staff against the sand, so that when the monster comes down, it will have to impale itself on the tip to get to her. It’s not a perfect strategy by any means, but it’s the best she can do with this beast before her, and at least she’ll take it with her. She won’t _die_ , Sharla will be more than able to heal her in time, and getting injured is just a part of combat. She knew what she’d be getting into when she left Alcamoth. Melia resists the urge to close her eyes. 

The impact never comes. Faster than she assumed he could think, Reyn dashes in front of her, taking the hit before pushing it back with his driver. He tumbles back slightly, catching himself with one arm before he can ram into Melia at the cost of what looks like a very uncomfortable twist of his wrist. “Shit!” he pushes out, strained, but his eyes are bright and concerned when he turns to look at her from below. “You okay? Did I hit you?” She notices a bruise blooming on his exposed midriff. The attack would have broken a bone, probably worse if it landed on her, and Reyn... _knew_ that. Combat was his area of expertise. But he took it for her anyway.

From the safety of behind Reyn’s shield driver, she’s able to gain her bearings, calling two elementals to her: lightning, for her, and fire, for Reyn. The Pagul that had nearly done her in seconds earlier is no match for the two of them together. Enabling Reyn to focus on defense is the smart move in a situation like this, and even though he’s injured, he makes a game out of it, laughing wildly every time the Pagul tries but fails to breach his shield line. By now, she’s caught her breath enough to wipe it off the face of the Bionis with a lightning elemental, and she tucks her staff away as Reyn folds up his driver.

“Good work.”

“Yeah, nice job!” he smiles back. “Man, talk about crappy luck. At least we’re getting it all out now so the rest of the day can go smoothly.” Reyn speaks like he knows something she doesn’t, which she finds strange, but doesn’t question. It is most likely unimportant, and she is not in the mood to press him. 

“Hey. I’m dealing with Dunban. Shulk and Riki’ve got each other. If you could heal Reyn, that would let us get back to tip-top shape a lot quicker,” Sharla nudges, knowingly. Melia curses her inwardly, the sly look on her face saying their healing partners were a bit of a deliberate choice on her part. That woman is crafty. Melia is glad she’s a friend and not an enemy. She reaches Reyn shortly, who sits on the ground with his good hand clutching his stomach for support. 

“Why did you _do_ that?” 

Reyn smiles down at her and winces when she touches the new bruise on his stomach. The water ether enveloping her hands doesn’t do much for the tender spot. He’s disoriented for a moment, not sure why she would ask when the answer was so obvious. “Sure, you can take ether blasts like a champ, but a hit like that… it wouldn’t’ve been pretty. Something like that hurts me a lot less than it would’ve hurt you.”

Melia is no stranger to people protecting her. She’d grown up with a pack of guards around her at all times, after all. Reyn is not a guard. He has no sworn loyalty to the Alcamoth crown, no pay dictating if he should keep her from harm. He simply took the hit because he wanted to. She casts a glance at Shulk, who warned her but took no action besides that, though he certainly could have.

“That one must have been the leader,” Dunban observes, idly cutting off both beast’s legs and Melia’s train of thought; kicking it over onto its back and driving his sword into its soft underbelly to make sure it was good and dead. She wonders if this whole incident is some hideous metaphor for her feelings for Shulk: Shulk, too preoccupied with something else to notice anything else, and Melia, aware of exactly what’s wrong but unable to do anything about it. 

“You okay, Melia?” Shulk said. His eyes did not hold the same raw concern that Reyn’s did as he looked up at that moment, body contorted painfully to prevent even a scratch from landing on her. 

“Yes, thank you.” A formality, really. That’s all it ever was. The friendliness had been unfamiliar in the face of the coldness she was used to from her own people, and she had deluded herself into thinking that it must be Shulk. She couldn’t see beyond that strange energy of Shulk’s that pulled all of them to him. But when she stepped back, used that cool and rational mind of hers, she reached the conclusion that it was actually Reyn. 

It had always been Reyn. 

The unpresumptuous one who didn’t ask her for a thing, and in exchange gave everything he had. Shulk might have been the de facto tactician, able to see outcomes using his Monado that the rest of them could never have fathomed, but Reyn was the heart. He didn’t need to pioneer groundbreaking strategies for any of them, for Melia, to trust him unconditionally. In a fight, there was no one she would want more to watch her back. She had only been vindicated with the latest incident.  
  


“And, besides, it don’t hurt so bad,” Reyn smiles lazily like the cat that got the cream. “I’m made of stronger stuff than _that_ , after all.”

  
  
“Then let me do the same for you.”

“Huh?”

“Forgive me for speaking so bluntly, but you’re useless against ether-based attacks. Let me be your shield.”

Reyn looks down at her like she’s grown an extra head. “Nobody’s ever offered to protect _me_ before.”

“Then is it not a good thing I’m here?”

There’s a strange look on his face when he says, “...Yeah. Good thing,” then goes suspiciously quiet until she finishes healing his wounds. 

Something of her revelation must have shown on her face despite her best efforts, because once the group starts moving again, Riki shuffles over and bumps into her legs slightly with a _look._ “No more wrinkles on Melly’s face. Now you tell Orluga boy so you smile again when you pet Riki!” 

Maybe he was right. It does no good to dwell on her feelings now that she knows she has them. They would do nothing but build up unless expelled, like the ether she fights with. Perhaps she ought to take a page out of Reyn’s book and act spontaneously. Besides, she can always hide away once they make it to Alcamoth, which should be some time tomorrow. She has _some_ cushioning, at least. The thought still does little to reassure her.

* * *

After setting up camp, Melia goes out to the beach to make a game plan, for she has made up her mind at last. Riki be damned, she _will_ confess. Before her careful nature gets the best of her, and she overthinks all the things that could go wrong, she must act now before she loses her nerves. Reticence will do her no good. 

The opportunity presents itself too soon for her liking, as she hasn't fully had the time to mentally prepare herself. But when they both end up alone on the edge of the familiar waters of the Latael Shore, looking out over the Eryth Sea on the Bionis’s back, she gathers her resolve and decides it must be a sign. The others are camping further back on the shore, and she can feel Sharla’s eyes on her. Melia cannot think about what will happen if she is rejected. It is now or never. Reyn is sitting on the edge of a jetty, his feet dangling over the water, and when she approaches, he stands up straight like she’s going to yell at him.

“Hi,” he starts, stretching his shoulder in that same nervous way he always does. He seems surprised to see her, but it’s quickly overturned by a strong look of apprehension. He’s so easy to read, it would give her second-hand embarrassment if it weren’t so endearing. 

“Good evening.”

“Real convenient that you’re here, because there was something I, uh, wanted to ask you. Was just thinking about it, actually”

“How fortuitous. And I to you as well.”

“Right, then. You first.”

“Why not both at the same time?”

“Fine. On three.”

“One, two, and then say, or one, two, three, then say?” 

“The, uh, second one.”

_One._

Reyn looks behind him as if assessing the fastest avenue of retreat. “Don’t hate me for this.”

_Two._

“How could I ever hate you?” Melia had better not make an ass of herself.

_Three._

Then, both at the same time, they both utter, frantic, hearts beating out of their chests, “Would you go on a date with me?” 

Melia blinks. “I’m sorry?”

Reyn barks out a laugh. “No way.”

And something changes, ever so slightly. Perhaps the very Bionis shifts beneath their feet, or the stars all blink out for just a moment, but for a second nothing exists but their shaky breathing and the woozy feeling of adrenaline swelling in their chests. 

“So, um--” He breaks the spell, pulling them back to reality (and thank Bionis for that, because Melia didn’t have the strength to do it). 

“How long?” She interrupts, just a tad too loud for the stillness of the night. It makes her cringe. The idle chatter from their friends in the background seems to quiet down, but she pays it no mind. There is nothing that could break her from this moment, not even the self satisfied looks she knows Sharla and Riki must be giving to each other.

“Oh, well...I dunno, really. A while. Maybe the whole time, if I’m bein’ honest.”

Melia lets out a light, nervous, laugh. She had been completely prepared to be rejected and make a quick exit that minimized shame. This was…an unforeseen, though certainly not unwelcome, development. 

He surprises her when he speaks again. “I mean, how could I not? You’re...you’re perfect, Melia. I don't even have the fancy words to describe it like you do. You’re smart, so much smarter than me, and clean, and you smell nice, and you’re-” He pauses, his eyes moving from the ground to stare directly into hers, an impossibly warm gray-green. “You’re everything, Melia. Everything.” The words tumble out of his mouth, trapped for much too long. The brief moment of silence as Melia tries to process must stretch too long for Reyn’s nervous state, so he continues. “I-I'm sorry, that’s probably a lot-” 

She interrupts him once again with a cool, smooth finger to his lips. She hopes the motion is as suave as she wants it to be. She moves her hand to cup around the curve of his cheek, and some small part of her relishes in the shiver it elicits. She did that; she held that power. He is tense, unsure of himself, scared of breaking her or scaring her off. She wants to let him know that it’s all right, but Melia isn’t in a much better state, truthfully. The difference between their situations is that she’s too prideful to allow her emotions to show. 

“Relax, Reyn.”

“S-Sorry, you’re just...real great...I can't believe you’re here right now… is it ok? That I have you like this?” 

“Have I made any moves to deny you?” 

His laugh is surprisingly soft. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. It’s baffling, because she _knows_ he’s seen other, full-blooded High Entia. They are ethereal, and elegant, and otherworldly in their beauty. For all her titles and gorgeous clothes, she is nothing but plain next to them. But Reyn doesn’t lie, it’s just not in his nature, so Melia knows that he must mean every word. “Can I…” He leans in, warm breath ghosting over her skin. She drifts closer to him naturally, pressing into his body like it’s where she belongs. For all she knows, it is. 

“I would love nothing more.” 

Melia is soon pleasantly surprised to discover that Reyn is a better kisser than she would have thought. His lips are a bit chapped and his fingers calloused as they press into her exposed skin gently, but his hair is so, _so_ soft as she pulls off her gloves and threads her fingers into it. Once they break apart, he gives Melia this _look,_ like she’s hung the stars in the sky, but not for long, as she pulls him right back in. 

* * *

Dunban likes to think he’s got an eye for the nearly invisible natural changes in people and places, and he’d need to be blind to miss the change between Reyn and Melia.

Reyn’s always been a physical person, touchy with his friends in conversation, willing to be the first wall between them and danger in battle. Before, Reyn treated their resident princess the same way, but there was always some strange sense of hesitation, like he was afraid of hurting, or offending her. He’s always been like that, all bluster up-front, but then, beneath the surface, as gentle as a man could be. But now, after… whatever happened on that weird night on the Eryth Sea, he’s lost that restraint. There’s nothing holding him back from coming up behind Melia and resting his chin on the top of her head and making jokes about her feathers being ruffled, and they are both disgustingly happy about it. 

Melia’s never looked so pleased to be ‘waylaid by a male Homs’ before (her words, not Dunban’s). She has become a bit more free with her words, both kind and… not so kind… but Dunban believes it will make her happier in the long run. There have always been all sorts of fascinating thoughts stuck inside that head of hers. Perhaps the knock on the skull that she must have received to choose _Reyn_ of all people as a partner had shaken some of them loose, because in the following days, she’s seemed a bit more willing to share them. 

He’s talking on, and on, and on, as per usual. Once Reyn gets going, he never stops until he’s finished. Dunban does worry about how that will play out with them both; Melia’s ability to cut her losses and his persistence will either tear them apart or stick them together like glue. He hasn’t been listening to the wacky yarn Reyn’s spun this time, but it seems to be quite amusing, if Shulk’s expression as he listens in is any indication. “Anyway, the moral of the story is that, from time to time, you should, you know, try gettin’ a little tangled up.” And to call the absurd gesture he makes next a wink would do it a disservice. This is a full-body gesticulation, complete with arms akimbo, a cheesy smile, and a little bob of his head down towards Melia like a great big rooster pecking at seeds on the ground. “If you’re pickin’ up what I’m puttin down.” 

“I don’t want it. Pick it back up,” Melia replies coolly without missing a beat. Sharla, trotting idly next to her, laughs so hard that she succumbs to a coughing fit. Dunban is glad they don’t have sappy nicknames for each other. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle the emotional damage it would inflict upon him, or their other friends. 

“You’re so mean to me,” Reyn laments lightheartedly, but ultimately bounces back, heading right back into whatever story he was telling before getting shut down. Dunban doesn’t care about the specifics. No, what he picks apart with eagle eyes are the barely-noticeable ways the bonds between the members of their group have changed. They ripple outwards from their center, affecting everyone else around them even if they don’t know it yet. Dunban cannot wait to see what happens next. As they all head back through Valak Mountain, to the place at its end where Dunban’s past and future lie, he will need all the diversions he can get. 

**Author's Note:**

> the original draft for this was:
> 
> ”heyyyy sexc” reyn said, winking. 
> 
> “omg” Melia winked back ,,,,,,
> 
> and now we're here! do with that what you will. 
> 
>   
> be on the lookout for more xenoblade fics from us soon! we had too much fun writing this to settle for just one collab. - anthony
> 
> please consider leaving a comment or some kudos if you enjoyed! mwah ty sexies. - nox
> 
> [anthony's twitter](https://twitter.com/alliedtowinter)  
> [anthony's tumblr](https://alliedtowinter.tumblr.com)
> 
> [nox's twitter](https://twitter.com/clinicallyNox)  
> some songs that pretty much played on repeat while we wrote (lol):  
> Helium - Glass Animals  
> Just the Two of Us - Grover Washington Jr.  
> Moscow - Autoheart  
> Me and My Husband - Mitski  
> Stardust - New Politics


End file.
